XMen Evolution  The Diary
by Ashlockley
Summary: It's been two weeks since Apocalypse's fall from power, and a certain southerner is chasing another certain southerner. I think you know what the deal is. ROMY all the way!
1. Chapter 1

**X-Men Evolution**

**Chapter One**

Rogue sighed loudly as she closed her diary and slipped it into its usual hiding place behind her textbooks on the bookcase. She smiled inwardly to herself. Rogue had yet to be bested by Kitty, who seemed to have an unnatural obsession in learning about every bit of Rogue's life. It was rather disconcerting. Fortunately, Kitty had quite the aversion to textbooks, and would never look for her prized diary anywhere near them.

Of course, if Kitty did happen to find the diary, Rogue would have no choice but to thoroughly drain her best friend. There was simply too much in there that would compromise her image, especially the bits about red-and-black-eyed-Cajun-filled dreams and the occasional drawing or two of a queen of hearts card.

Or three. Or four. Or five. Fine, it was something approaching twenty seven!

But that wasn't important.

She thought back to the infamous kidnapping incident and more specifically, the aftermath of it. She had asked (definitely not begged - that would be insane) him to come with her back to the Institute. And, being the no good, lying, stealing, slimeball Swamp Rat that he was, he had the nerve to turn her down. But not before handing her that card.

God, the card. It had driven her nuts the first few days after she got back home. What did it mean? Was it a sign to say that he cared about her? Or was he just lying per usual and tricking her for the fun of it? She spent many nights awake pondering over these questions, a part of her just clinging onto the hope that the answer to the first one was yes and no to the second one.

Unfortunately, she had to put all Remy LeBeau-related thoughts aside when Apocalypse effected his master plan, having chosen the worst possible time to do so. She had to admit that she felt a little glad when she locked him away. No more meddling and interruptions.

Rogue did, however, notice that the Cajun failed to show for the battle against Apocalypse. Wherever he was, he'd better have a explanation for why that was so the next time he decided to appear into her life.

A truck rolled down a dusty road and the driver (whose name was Sandy, in case you were wondering) whistled to the tune of some country song. He had spent the whole day doing the usual - delivering goods and whatnot around the country - and he was heading up north from New Orleans. All in all, it was a normal day.

Right up to the point he nearly ran over a person.

He slammed down the brakes and jumped out of the truck, rushing to the man's side to make sure he was okay. From the sounds of it, he was absolutely spectacular, judging by the never-ending stream of words flowing from the guy's mouth. "Tu es plus gras que un cochon, plus stupide que un ass, batarde!"

"Uh, sir, Ah' m sorry ahnd ahl, but Ah don't understand what ya're trying ta say."

The man stared at him as though he had just been backhanded and muttered another incomprehensible word unde his breath. "Never min'. If y' wan' t' say sorry, y' can give Remy a ride back t' New York and maybe he'll kin'ly forget t' inform de police." The driver nodded hurriedly. "Good. Get a move on, den."

Remy settled himself in the back of the truck, and withdrew a deck of playing cards from his deck. It wasn't all shiny and wax-coated and luxurious as his usual cards, and he liked it that way. His first deck had always been special to him, and that was exactly why he had never exploded any of them, not even when he got captured by those museum guards back in…

He cut off from his digression and began to shuffle them, and then dealt out the start for his solitare game. He continued happily until he reached a dead end where he required a card which he did not have and, instead of frowning, he grinned widely, remembering exactly whom the missing card was with at the current moment.

Rogue. That was what his chère called herself. It was a rather depressing name, and the fact that it did actually largely reflect her personality made it even more so. Remy had once put his efforts into finding the southern girl's true name, but ran into several brickwalls, the largest of which was called Mystique - the shapeshifter had put so much care into concealing any sort of freely available information on the girl that Remy concluded that the only way to find out would be to break into the Department of Social Services. Not that it would be hard, seeing as though the security there was atrociously bad, but he just decided on a different course of action. Wooing and romancing every last bit out of his very own darling.

An hour passed by with relative speed (although Remy did spend most of it imagining many different fantasies involving himself, Rogue, and an unnecessarily large amount of golden syrup, so it was only natural) and the driver banged on the truck. "Hey, ya back there! Ah'm droppin' ya off here! A "Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters". That close enough ta New York for ya?"

Remy smiled. "Oui. C'est satis." He didn't wait for the truck to stop and jumped off, landing on the ground and executing a forward roll. He dusted himself off and smirked as he retrieved his bow staff from his pocket and extended it.

Remy was on the other side of the main gate in no time and he made his way carefully to the mansion, making sure not to trigger any alarms. He climbed onto a balcony and peered through the window. "Ah, vraiment bon. C'est ma chère." With a small twist of the wrist, he picked the locked door and let it swing open. Quietly stepping in, he made his way to her dresser and leaned against it, settling his gaze on the prone form sleeping on the bed before him. He almost dove for cover when she shifted, but sighed in relief as she continued to sleep, oblivious to his prescence.

The way her lush brunette hair fell across her face, the roundness and plumpness of her lips, her rosy cheeks (which was quite surprising to Remy, who had never seen Rogue with no make up on. He just assumed she was naturally that pale) just made him want to throw caution and safety to the wind and kiss her right there and then.

And before he could register what he was doing, Remy found himself moving closer towards her, drawn in like a moth to a flame.

Luckily, his incredibly stupid and potentially lethal course of action was interrupted by Rogue shifting again, and mumbling something about Cajun spices under her breath, and this made Remy smirk. _So, de chère dreams about ol' Remy, does she? How flatterin'. _

He was thinking about how he could incorporate said spices into his fantasies with the southern girl when his attention was caught by the mention of a diary in her mumbling. His lips tugged into his signature smirk and he began his search for the elusive document.

The next day found Rogue in a foul mood. Her diary was missing, and she was on a warpath to reacquire it, having tortured Kitty for an hour by threatening her favourite jeans only to realise that she didn't have it. She overturned her entire room again just to make sure she hadn't misplaced it and growled as she searched through the mess on the floor. "Where in hell is it!"

"Oh, bonjour chère. Y' lookin' for dis?" She whipped around to find the Cajun crouched down on the railing of her balcony, flipping through what appeared to be _her diary! She _screeched and made a mad dash at him, but he simply did a flip off the balustrade and landed gracefully on the ground below. "Remy t'inks dat y're a little t' late, chère. He's jus' reach'd de part wit' a Cajun Prince Charming an' a beaut'ful damsel-in-distress."

Rogue turned a mortified shade of crimson. "Ah don't know anythin' ahbout that," she growled at him. "Ah sure as hell didn't wraht that. Now give it back, Swamp Rat, or Ah'll come down there and kick ya ass from here 'til next week, ya hear?"

Remy pretended not to hear her, and continued to read through the diary. "Chère, chère, chère, Remy had no idea y' were so smitten wit' him! Dis is simply wond'ful-" He stopped abruptly as he reached a double page spread of a rather flowery sketch and his red-black eyes widened in shock. "Mon dieu." Rogue also seemed to realise which page he was on and, ignoring all rational concerns about safety, leapt from the balcony and landed on the Cajun, who had the decency to catch her.

"Give that back, ya good-for-nahthing Swamp Rat!" she shouted, attempting to wrench her diary from his grasp, but he held it just out of her reach. She struggled for a little longer until she stopped and stared angrily at Remy, who stared back with an incredibly dazed expression. "Ah'm waitin', Cajun. Hand it ovah."

"Non. Remy mus' refuse, chère, since he wants t' know what else y've been thinkin' 'bout doin' wit' him." This was evidently the wrong answer, as in the next second he was on the floor clutching at his stomach whilst Rogue stomped off with her diary firmly clutched in her arms.

She passed Logan and Scott, who were hurrying outside after hearing the commotion. "Stripes, what's goin' on?"

"Nahthin'," she replied with gritted teeth.

Scott looked unconvinced. "You sure, Rogue? We heard some pretty loud shouting."

"Ah said, it was nahthi-"

Logan cut her off with a growl. "I can smell the Gumbo's scent on ya, Stripes." He stalked out into the grounds with unsheathed claws, with Royue running after him. "Gumbo! Get yah scrawny ass out right now!"

"Wolvie, bonjour! It's a great mornin', ain't it?" the ex-Acolyte replied as he approached, seemingly recovered from the sucker punch Rogue had delivered earlier. He ignited a card and played around with it, grinning evilly at Logan. "I'd hate t' ruin it by blowin' y' up like a firecracker."

"Bring it, Cajun-"

"Will both of ya cut it out!" Rogue thundered with such a ferocity that Logan actually stopped and raised an eyebrow at her. "Logan, there will naht be any dahcin' of any kahnd, 'kay! And ya, Swamp Rat, ya better get outta here before Ah change mah mahnd."

"O' course, chère. À dèmain." Remy bowed deeply before retreating swiftly, disappearing within seconds. Rogue harrumphed and went back to her room, leaving Logan a little bewildered and Scott downright confused.

The southern girl plonked herself down on her bed and flicked to the double page spread which Remy had seen. A bloom of heat rose to her face, and she slammed her diary shut. Why did she ever draw down that dream? Did she not consider what would happen if it was ever seen? _Stupid, stupid Rogue_, she berated herself. Ya _just had ta go and draw it, didn't ya? Now he's nevah gonna leave ya ahlone._

"Like, whatcha got there, girl?"

Rogue almost jumped in fright and automatically shoved her diary under her pillow, and put on her usual expressionless face. "What? Ah don't see anythin'."

Kitty gave her a look. "Oh puh-leese. You're about as convincing as a puppy sitting next to a pile of droppings. Come on, like, what's that under your pillow?"

"Nahthin', so drop it, 'kay!" Rogue hated how utterly pathetic her attempt to detract attention away from her diary was.

"Hmmm…" Kitty looked thoughtfully at her best friend, her mind hard at work. "You're totally jumpy and nervous today, and the last time you were like this was when…" Her mouth formed an 'o' as realisation struck her. "It's him, isn't it? It's the tall, athletic, and incredibly hot Cajun!" She squealed in joy. "This is totally awesome!"

"It is naht!" Rogue indignantly replied. "Did ya naht hear when Ah told ya Ah hated that schemin', lyin' Swamp Rat?"

"Oooh, nickname! You totally like him!"

"Do naht!"

"Do too!"

"Do naht!"

"Do too infinity times and no returns!"

Rogue threw up her hands in frustration. "Ah cahn naht be bothered ta argue with ya. Think what ya will." She quickly slipped her diary from underneath the pillow into her rucksack and quickly exited, determined to put some distance between her and her friend with the hyperactive imagination.

She sat down under a tree in the park, pulling out her diary and a pencil. She smiled to herself as she recalled the puffy red face of her friend as she took off on Logan's bike, and began to doodle aimlessly on the page. Or, at least until she was interrupted.

"'Allo, chère," purred out a tall figure who was leaning on a nearby oak. "Y' drawin' more o' Remy?"

Glare. "Ya wish, _Gambit_."

"Dis Cajun woul' jus' like t' say dat he woul' be extraordinarily happy if y' were t' accept in real life," Remy answered. "Y' know, Remy has y' t' thank for tellin' him 'bout it. He never knew his chère was so conventional for a Rogue."

"Bite me."

"Sure, if dat's wha' y' wan'."

Rogue glared at him again and said nothing, continuing to draw. After a while, she raised her head from her diary. "Swamp Rat, why are ya in a tux?"

"Why do y' ask, chère? Wan' t' get de measur'ments for y'r next sketch?" Remy replied with a smirk as he sat down next to her. Naturally, Rogue shifted away and shot him a warning glance. "Aww, don' be so col' t' Remy, chère…"

"Just answer tha question."

"C'est une histoire très longe, et vraiment ennuyeuse aussi. Y' don' wan' t' hear it."

"Nous avons beaucoup de temps, Monsieur LaBeau. Parlez."

Remy smiled. "Y'r Français is vraiment bon, chère. Y' still have a little bit o' Remy floatin' in dat beautiful head o' y'rs?" Seeing her annoyed look, he merely laughed and shrugged. "Sorry, chère, can' tell y'. Maybe when we get married."

"Don't try yah luck, Cajun, or Ah'll- oomph!" She felt a brief but softest, most delicate and enjoyable sensation dancing on her lips and Remy pulled back, a bright warm smile plastered on his face. "Ah-um-uh-" she managed to get out, her face now an intense red and her cheeks burning up.

"How was dat, chère?"

Rogue opened her mouth, but was completely unable to form any coherent words, which only made his grin wider. So, she decided to do the only other thing that could preserve her dignity - she drew her right hand back and slapped him hard on the face, stunning and knocking him back a little. As he was regaining composure, the southern girl did a runner, escaping him once again.

Remy didn't bother chasing after her and simply remained where he was, brushing his fingertips over his lips. The kiss, though it hadn't lasted that long, felt just as he imagined - wonderfully soft and utterly blissful. _Definitely got t' do dat again. Not t' mention de fact dat de chère enjoyed it too._

Kitty was wondering why her room-mate was spending the afternoon curled up under her covers and not talking to anybody. "Ro-o-ogue…" she said. "Like, did you bump into that Cajun?" There was a muffled response from under the duvet. "I'll take that as a yes. So, what did he do?"

"He didn't do anythin'," Rogue curtly replied. Damn that Cajun, damn him and his stupid kiss, damn his snide smirks, damn his everything!

"O-o-o-oh, so he kissed you! How was it? Good? Brilliant? Exhilirating?"

"He didn't kiss me!"

"Sure he did. Rogue, you have to admit, he likes you. A lot."

"Well, he can go screw himself, 'cause Ah ain't gonna- eek!" Rogue exclaimed as a hand phased under her covers and took hold of her diary, pulling it back out. "Noooooo!" Oh _crap, oh crap, if she sees it, Ah'll-_

"OH. MY. GOD!" Kitty shrieked. "WEDDING! ROGUE! YOU DAWG!"

"Ssshhhhh!" the southern girl hissed. "Ahnd give me that!" She dived at her room-mate, who yelped and ran, phasing through the floor. "Come back here, Katherine Pryde!" She practically flew out of her room and thundered down the steps, scattering a group of girls heading in the opposite direction. Tabitha shot an curious look at the southern girl, who was now threatening Kitty severe bodily harm.

"Hmmm… looks interesting," she noted as something hit the wall with a resounding clang, followed by a shriek. "Let's have a look." The girls hurried down the stairs and peeked into the kitchen, which was in quite a serious state of disarray, and gasped as Rogue tackled the valley girl to the floor. Triumphantly, she took back her diary and hurried away. "So, girl," Tabitha asked, "care to tell us why Goth Girl went all linebacker on you?"

Kitty, despite being winded, still managed to keep up her extremely excited appearance. "I, like, snuck a peek at her diary, and guess what I saw! A drawing she did of her getting married to Remy!"

"Who's Remy?" the girls asked in unison.

"You know, like, the totally super hot Acolyte!"

"What, the Russian?"

Kitty coloured a little. "No, not him- well, it's not that he's not super hot- wait, I'm not saying he's totally handsome- not that he's really ugly- 'cos he's not, right?" Her voice trailed away and she decided not to say anything for a while, looking incredibly flustered. "I- uh, meant the Ru- ah, Cajun guy. Anyways, isn't this, like, super awesome?"

"It's a little hard to wrap my head around," Tabby said. "Rogue and _Gambit_? Seems quite unlikely."

Kitty huffed. She was fully engaged in matchmaking mode, and would not let anybody speak ill of the magical pairing that was Rogue amd Remy. "Hmph. Say what you will, girls, but I assure you that before the week is out they will be dating."

* * *

><p><strong>I personally love ROMY, it is my favorite pairing in the Evo universe, along with Jonda and Kiotr. Rogue and Gambit have such... chemistry.<strong>

**My other story, A New Face, will have an update, but not very soon. Still have to work out some of the kinks.**


	2. Chapter 2

**X-Men Evolution**

**Chapter Two**

Remy LeBeau was by no means out of the woods.

His hightailing out of New Orleans had helped his situation greatly, but no, he still had to watch his back for Rippers waiting for the chance to grab him and bundle him back to get married with a bat shit insane woman.

And even that description was an understatement.

Belladonna Boudreaux was a raving, psychopathic, bat shit insane, lunatic demon who was absolutely nothing like the beautiful and harmless woman she masqueraded as.

Anyways, as he found out several minutes ago, he was far from rosy. He gave a kick to the prone form of a Ripper thug lying in front of him, face down in a puddle of God knows what, and stalked off after securing the man's wrists and ankles with the pair of handcuffs he had so foolishly tried to use on Remy.

He slipped into a coffee shop and sat at the back, out of the field of vision of people entering. Fiddling idly with the cuff of his newly acquired/stolen trenchcoat, Remy decided that he would need to find someplace to hide for a while, at least until the manhunt was over. Which, unfortunately, meant that he would probably never be able to set foot in his beloved New Orleans for a very, very long time.

At least there was a slight silver lining to the extremely large amd stormy cloud that was his luck. He was stuck with his chère, and _that _he did not mind. He called a barista over and asked for a cup of coffee, which was brought to him almost immediately. The barista, who happened to be a cute looking girl of around his age, smiled at him.

And of course, being Remy LeBeau, he smiled right back at her and winked. The girl went beet-red and scuttled off, undoubtedly going to tell her friends about him, and the ex-Acolyte mentally slapped himself.

He was Remy LeBeau, the Cajun Casanova, the Ragin' Cajun, the heartthrob of thousands of women from the East Coast to the West. But he was _also _in love with Rogue, and thus Remy knew, for his own sake, that the shameless flirting must stop. Or at least be toned down to a level that would appear that he wasn't doing it at all.

Because his wonderfully fiery chère would probably kill him for flirting with another girl. Well, not kill him, since she loved him as much as he did her, but cause him more pain that he'd care for.

Remy was about to take a refreshing sip from his drink when someone plonked themselves in the seat in front of him and coughed for attention. Raising his gaze, he found himself looking at a girl in her late teens staring intently at him.

"Oui?" he inquired.

"You're Gambit, aren't you?" the girl gushed. "Oh my god, I can see why she's totally head over heels for you, you are _so _amazingly-"

"Does Remy know y'?"

"Oh, um, no, not personally, but I'm a friend of Rogue's." The girl held out her hand. "I'm Kitty Pryde."

Remy reckoned he could flirt for a little longer. "A pleasure, chère," he whispered huskily as he pressed his lips to her hand. "Remy LeBeau."

"I-I-I know," Kitty stuttered, blushing when she noticed his lips were still attached to her hand. "I'm he, uh, here to talk to you about, ah, Rogue."

Remy sat up in attention. "Quoi?"

"She really likes you!" Kitty blurted out, and then slapped her hand over her month. "Oops. I, like, meant to bring that in slowly."

"Oh, chaton, Remy already knows dat his chère loves him mo' dan anyt'in' in de world," the Cajun smiled. "She's as easy t' read as an open book."

Kitty huffed. "It's, like, so much more than that! Her diary-"

"Is fill'd wit' stories 'bout her an' her incred'bly handsome Cajun boyfriend, I know." Remy grinned as he sipped from his mug. "Y' see, chaton, Remy be mos' intent on makin' de Rogue his petite amie."

"That's, that's totally wonderful!" The valley girl was practically bouncing in her chair in delight. "You're going to make Rogue so happy!" She handed to Remy a card with two hastily scrawled on numbers. "The first one's Rogue's, and the second's one's mine."

"An' pourquoi woul' dis Cajun require y'r number?"

Kitty stared at him with a "duh, isn't it obvious" look. "This is Rogue we're talking about. You need organisation, planning, intel to pull this off. And that means you need me."

Rogue was groaning into her pillow.

In the short space of a day, more than enough had happened, and she was none too pleased about it, especially the part where news on her crush had been spread far and wide to every single person on the institute. And that meant Logan as well.

_That _didn't turn out so well.

Rogue groaned again, and punched her pillow several times in frustration. It was just like Gambit to swoop in any time he wanted and stir up more trouble than she thought was possible.

There was a knock and Rogue answered with a muffled obscenity.

"Y' go' a dirty min', chère!" a voice called from outside her window. "No' dat Remy min's, o' course. He likes his filles wit' a bit o' fire."

"Go ahway, Swamp Rat!"

"_Non_. Remy be stayin' here 'til y' come out here an' parles avec lui." After being ignored for several minutes, the ex-Acolyte started tapping on the glass rapidly and mouthing rather explicit things of what he wanted to do to her. "Come on, chère, y' know y' wan' t'."

"Ah do naht!" Rogue shouted back at him. "Why would Ah want anythin' ta do with a stupid, brainless moron like ya!"

"Chère, chère, y'r words say non, but ev'ryt'in' else says oui, absolutement," the Cajun taunted. "Remy knows dat y' can' resist him-"

"Try me." Rogue stomped over to the window and deftly shut the curtains in his face.

Less than a second later, there was something that sounded like a click, then the curtains parted and Remy poked his head through. He grinned happily at the southern girl, who was staring at him with fires blazing in her eyes. "'Allo, chère."

"Get. Out."

"Non," Remy answered with laughter in his voice. "Remy likes it in here."

Growling in rage, Rogue stormed out of her room and walked right into Kitty, who jumped in fright. "What?" she questioned suspiciously. "Ya eavesdroppin' on meh?"

"No, no!" Kitty answered hastily. "I just need, uh, to get my, you know, stuff…" She trailed off and attempted to look innocent.

Rogue grumbled and walked off.

The instant she disappeared from view, Kitty snuck inside her room, finding the ex-Acolyte lying on her room-mate's bed whilst flicking through her diary. "What, like, was that?" she asked with a huff. "You just made her really angry!"

He shrugged, smiling. "Ma chère is a sight t' behold when she's all ril'd up. So beaut'ful." He closed the diary with a snap. "Anyways, Roguey's jus' showin' dat she likes ol' Remy back."

Kitty stared at the guy as though he was insane. "We need a plan. A BETTER one."

An hour later

_Ring. Ring ring. Ring ring ring._

The southern girl grabbed her phone from the dresser and groaned. There was another picture of Remy LeBeau giving her the puppy eyes, with a caption saying: "Aw, chère, forgive Remy, plz?"

Somehow the damn thief had managed to acquire her phone number, and was now sending her pictures every five minutes for the last hour, after she had stormed into the library to find some peace and quiet. Rogue had quite a clear idea who had given it to him, and she was going to pay.

The southern girl slammed her phone down on the table and continued to read.

_Ring. Ring ring. Ring ring ring._

Another photo.

Whilst she found it annoying, she had to admire his persistence. Not that she wasn't admiring anything else of his, of course-

Her eyes widened. That. Did. Not. Just. Happen.

She was undermining herself.

Rogue snatched her phone up and dialled back to the Cajun, who immediately picked up.

"Oui, dis is Remy, c'est qui?"

"Ya know damn well who it is, Swamp Rat!" Rogue thundered at her phone. "Ya're goin' ta be in a world of pain when Ah find ya-"

"Ah, but chère, Remy's already in a world o' pain." There was a moment of silence. "Why do y' keep rejectin' me, Rogue?"

The sudden switch from mischief to dead-on sincerity rendered the southern girl somewhat wordless. "Uhh, um, Ah," she stuttered out.

"Come on, Rogue, tell me. Please." The Cajun's voice had taken a pleading tone, and Rogue felt her defence crumbling. How could she resist a distraught Remy?

"Ah don't know," she replied quietly. "Ah'm... afraid."

"Afraid o' wha'? Remy ain't gonna hurt y'. He never woul'."

She gave a watery chuckle. "Ah know. Ah'm afraid… Ah maht hurt ya, ahnd Ah don't want ta do that."

"Oh, chère, y' make-" Remy was cut off by a rather loud interruption.

"Remy! Is it working?"

Rogue froze. So did Remy.

"Ya connivin' bastard! Manipulatin' mah feelings! Ya're lucky we're not speakin' face ta face! Ya'd better start runnin', 'cos when Ah fahnd ya, Ah'm goin' ta rip off yah-"

Remy hung up and glared at Kitty. "It was goin' fine, chaton, 'til y' went an' screw'd it up." He sighed wistfully. "Ah well. Remy tried it y'r way, an' now he's gonna get murder'd. So he t'inks he'll do it his way from now on."

Kitty harrumphed and left.

The ex-Acolyte was about to settle down to figure on a second plan of action when he heard a loud yelling from behind him, and turned in time to see a gloved fist heading towards his face. Naturally, he duked under and took several steps away from the enraged southern belle. "Let's calm down, chère, dere's no need t' hurt ol' Remy…"

"No need!" Rogue exploded. "Ya're lucky Ah didn't set Wolverine on yah ass! Ya manipulated meh!"

"Whilst dat may be true, it wasn' Remy's idea, an' it mos' def'nitely was no' his intention t' hurt y'r feelin's." The Cajun made an apologetic face. "Je suis vraiment dèsole, chère. Can y' forgive me?"

Rogue's glare softened a little, but she remained otherwise stoic. "Mebbe. Just… just think before ya act. Ahnd don't be such an asshole."

"Understood, chère." The Cajun allowed a lopsided grin to creep back. "Remy'll have t' work on de asshole t'ing, though…"

Rogue involuntarily smiled. He could be funny and charming when he wasn't being such a moron. "Goodnight, Remy," she said softly, relaxing her stance, and walked back into the mansion.

Remy watch his chère disappear with his grin still ever present on his face. "Bon nuit, Rogue. An' sweet dreams."


	3. Chapter 3

**X-Men Evolution**

**Chapter 3**

It was a Sunday morning, which meant that everybody, excluding Logan, woke up several hours after their alarm clocks went off, and slowly made their way into the kitchen. Kitty yawned widely as she found her seat at the table and punched Kurt lightly when he tried to budge her off. "Watch it, Kurt," she mumbled. The fuzzy boy shrugged and 'ported into a nearby chair, where he grabbed a box of cereal and poured some into a bowl.

Whilst everyone else seemed to be still half asleep, Rogue was the only one with a smile on her face. Which may or may not have had something to do with the present she had found on her dresser from the Cajun Casanova himself.

It was a pendant, which was simple, but elegant. A shiny emerald (Rogue checked, and it appeared to be real) fixed onto the necklace with a web of thin silver strands. It was easily the most beautiful piece of jewelry she had ever seen.

The note which it came with made her smile.

_Dear Rogue,_

_Bought with hard-earned money, not stolen. Thought you'd appreciate it more that way._

_From your homme with everlasting love,_

_Remy_

Rogue had blushed when she read the last part, and quickly hidden the note. But she did wear the pendant, and it felt snug and right where it was around her neck. Trust Remy LeBeau to know her size.

The southern girl saw that Kitty was staring at her, and then realised she was unconsciously fiddling with the necklace. Quickly, Rogue hid the pendant from view and glared at her.

"What?" Rogue asked. "Ya got a problem?"

The valley girl merely smiled back knowingly and continued to eat her breakfast, leaving Rogue mentally grumbling at how she was getting too easy to read.

Everyone shifted when Logan came in scowling and deposited a a large hunk of metal on the table. It was warped and scorched, as if something had exploded in it.

"Ya care ta explain, Stripes?" he growled.

Rogue inwardly groaned. Was the Cajun trying to deliberately aggravate the Wolverine? "Dunno. How should Ah know bettah than anybody else?"

"Because they're not the one whose got a damn Cajun mongrel chasing after them-"

Before Logan could finish, Rogue got up and, drawing her hand back, slapped him hard in the face with a sharp crack. He stared back in disbelief, as did everyone else in the room. There was an extremely uncomfortable feeling in the room.

"Don't ya call him a mongrel," she breathed out heavily. "Evah. Again. Ya understand?" Logan nodded, bewildered, and stepped aside to let the southern girl pass him and quickly exit the kitchen. Everybody stared at one another with confusion, not entirely sure at what just happened.

What had she done?

Her mind had gone blank the moment she heard Logan slandering Remy, and had only really restarted immediately after she dealt him the mother of all slaps.

Rogue was horrified. She had lost control completely and assaulted a man who she had grown to think of as a father, which, on both counts, did not count as good in any way. She shot a look at the photo of Remy on her phone.

Oh dear. She was in trouble.

And not the kind of trouble you could solve by waiting and wishing, but the kind of trouble which would bite you on the ass if you did. She needed to sort out the Remy LeBeau situation as soon as possible before anybody did anything stupid and, knowing both Logan and Remy, that would involve a large amount of explosions and slicing.

Rogue grabbed her coat and hurried out to the garage, "borrowing" Scott's car keys along the way, and drove off before anyone noticed that she was gone. She was at the mall before she realised one thing.

She had absolutely no idea where to find the Cajun.

But she did know that even if she wasn't going to find him, he most certainly would find her. And so Rogue waited patiently for Remy LeBeau to show up.

And waited. And waited. And waited.

Two hours later Rogue huffed loudly. Whenever she didn't want him to be around, he would be there without fail, and now that she actually did want to meet him, he was nowhere to be seen. Damn Cajun.

She was about to put the car into reverse when there was a soft thump in the passenger seats behind her and a whiff of spices drifted into her nostrils. She almost smiled, and then schooled her features into a frown as she turned to face him.

"Where in tha blazes have ya been, Swamp Rat!" Rogue snapped. "Ya have any ahdea how Ah've been waiting' for ya?"

"Deux heures, trois minutes et une seconde, e-xac-te-ment," came the smart-ass reply. "Wasn' dat long, chère, y' got t' have some patience - after all, dey do say it is a virtue, non?"

"Ha. Ha. Ha." The southern girl glared at him. "We need ta talk."

"Remy's a little confus'd, chère," the ex-Acolyte answered, the smirk on his face indicating quite the opposite. "He t'ought we were pas' de talkin' stage."

"Tha wit ahnd humah." Rogue clapped sarcastically, and Remy bowed in an over-exaggerated manner. "Quit it, Cajun, Ah'm serious. We. Need. Ta. Talk." Sensing the seriousness in her tone, Remy shut his mouth and nodded. "Good." She punched him on the arm moderately hard.

"Oww!" Remy shouted. "Y' said talkin'! Wha' y' punchin' Remy for?"

"That," the southern girl jabbed him in the shoulder with a finger, "is for being a jackass! Blowin' up tha lock on the gates! Why are ya deliberately tryin' to piss Logan off!"

"It's fun!" protested the Cajun, only to be punched again. "Oww!"

"It is naht!" Rogue hissed, frowning deeply. "It is naht fun for meh when Ah have ta slap somebody in tha face just ta stand up for ya pathetic, cowardly behahnd."

"Y' slappin' people for Remy?" The Cajun beamed happily. "Aww, chère, Remy don' know wha' t' say."

"How 'bout apologisin' ta me? Ah'm pretty sure Ah'm tha victim in this." Rogue sighed, her gaze shifting from Remy to the steering wheel in front of her. "Remy, Ah need ta know. Do ya… do ya… ya know?"

Remy detected an air of uncertainty in her voice and was momentarily stunned. She was unsure of herself. That felt a little weird… but strangely attractive. He leaned in towards his southern belle, who was fidgeting nervously with her hands.

"Rogue," he breathed out softly over her neck, noting with a great deal of satisfaction that it made her shiver (in delight, he thought, but she'd never admit it later). "Y' know how I feel 'bout y'. I've never felt dis way before. Y'… y're my own true darlin'. Y're my chère." He lifted her chin gently with a covered part of his hand, bringing her gaze to his, and smiled brightly. "Je t'aime, Rogue, je t'aime."

Her heart was beating so quickly she could hear it pounding in her ears, and her head was starting to hurt. Oh gawd. He- he loves meh? Oh gawd! He loves meh! Remy LeBeau loves meh! Wait! Do Ah love him back! Yes- no, Ah don- wait, yes- dear lord, why can't Ah think!

"Rogue? Rogue? Dis is Houston, y' readin' me?"

"Remy, Ah," the southern girl drew in a deep breath, "love ya too. Really."

Remy LeBeau was in heaven. At the pearly gates, and maybe stealing the keys from St. Peter's belt (old habits die hard). His grin grew wider and wider, as did his eyes, until Rgoue punched him again. "Yeow! Why!"

The southern girl shrugged. "Yah face was lookin' weird."

The Cajun stared speechlessly at her for a moment, until words came rolling out again. "Y're one unpredictable femme, chère. But Remy t'inks he likes it." He reached forward and brushed a lock of her hair out of her eyes and carefully behind her ear. "So we're datin' now?"

The southern girl gave him a shy but happy smile. "Ah guess." She started when she remembered a very important detail, which had somehow managed to slip her mind. "But what ahbout mah mutation!"

"It don' change nothin', chère. Remy don' care if he can' touch y'. He jus' want t' be wit' y'." Remy grinned. "Now, how about dis humble Cajun take y' someplace nice?"

"Ah'd better naht wake up in a train carriage ahgain, Swamp Rat," the southern girl warned playfully. "Ah don't appreciate bein' bound and gagged- NO JOKES ABOUT WHAT AH JUST SAID!" She stared death at her new boyfriend, who merely looked back with an innocent face.

"Don' know wha' y're talkin' 'bout, Roguey."

"Don't call meh Roguey."

"Wha'ver y' say, Roguey."

Punch.

"Yeow! Watch it wit' de arm! De arm, woman!"


	4. Chapter 4

**X-Men Evolution**

**Chapter Four**

Things were off.

Oh yeah, definitely off.

Rogue and Logan had never quite shifted back to their original relationship after the incident, and the awkwardness that befell them prevented either of the two from talking about it. She had taken to avoiding him whenever possible by hiding in the library, and he spent most of his time either in the garage or the Danger Room.

Of course, this had not gone unnoticed by certain members of the mansion and they decided, much to the southern belle's chagrin, to interfere in the current status quo. "They" was really just Kitty, the only person besides Logan who really knew about what she had affectionately – and to Rogue, annoyingly – referred to as Romy.

Fortunately, the valley girl decided to opt out after she went to talk to Logan and ended up spending an afternoon of potential shopping being thrown around, shot at and having things dropped on her. At the end, Logan did not even have the courtesy of apologising for not letting her out and simply grunted and walked off.

Rogue knew that her adoptive father was just trying to help her, but she was still too pissed at what she saw as an unwanted intrusion into her own personal life (it was called personal for a reason) to go and talk to him.

And so the awkwardness continued for another week.

It was a good week for her, though. With most people deciding to keep their noses out of it after Kitty's accident, she was free to spend her time however she liked and that involved listening to music at a thundering volume and reading her books in peace. At least that's what she made people think.

She spent more time outside than she did ever before, and in the presence of the Cajun Casanova himself. Their afternoons were filled with pleasant jibes and pokes at each other, followed usually by a nice meal together at a Southern style restaurant which he insisted on always paying for.

"Oh non, chère, we can't have dat," he would say with his adorable grin. "It ain't _vrai_ for a gentleman t' leave his _femme_ t' foot de bill, it's rude!"

Rogue never bothered to argue otherwise, since she didn't actually have that much money and it was kind of sweet of him.

Anyways, the week passed relatively well for her; that is, until the weekend, when someone with a lot more authority than Kitty told her to come back to the mansion for a "little talk". Boy, she walked straight into that one.

She was out with Remy again when the Professor contacted her and asked her to have a talk with him. She left as quickly as she could – well, as quickly as she could with the Cajun hanging off of her – and when she entered the Professor's office, the first thing she noticed was that Logan was also there.

Whoa. Instant awkwardness.

The Professor must have sensed this and, to be fair, it didn't take his telepathy to figure it out. However, he persevered and invited Rogue to sit by Logan on the couch. She complied, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

"Now, Rogue, Logan, you know why you're here and I hope you'll take the opportunity to talk about the situation between the two of you."

"There's nathin' ta talk ahbout-"

"I don't like the idea of you an' Gambit. He's a thief, a philanderer an' a certified jackass an' ya know it," Logan said. "It's only a matter of time before he goes and hurts ya, so it ain't worth the little kick ya get out of bein' around the moron."

Rogue glared angrily at Logan. Traitor, she fumed silently.

"Rogue, you and Gambit are...?"

"Datin', and that ain't gonna change jus' 'cos ya don't lahke him," Rogue shot back. "An' Ah know Remy's naht fakin' anythin'! He cares for meh, and Ah care for him too!"

She was severely tempted to smash something into someone's face when Logan snorted.

"Whaddaya say, Chuck? Ya think Stripes should continue ta see th' Cajun, or should I show him a little Canadian hospitality?" His claws poked out from his knuckles.

"Logan, please, calm down for a second." Charles gave him a stern look and turned to Rogue. "Rogue, I am not going to dictate who you can or cannot see; it's simply not my decision to make. If you think you and Mr. LeBeau are going to be happy together, I wish you good luck, but if not, then I suggest a little prudence.

"I know that you are simply trying to look out for her, Logan, trying to prevent somebody from potentially hurting her feelings, but you must realise that Rogue can make choices for herself now. Whilst that may not sit too well for you, you are going to have to accept and handle it correctly.

"I hope that you two will not be distanced from each other – I would hate to see the strong bond between you suffer as a consequence of this. You two share a very unique relationship which both of you need."

Rogue glanced over at her "father", whose grim looking face had softened a little, and reached out to place her gloved hand on his.

"What do ya say, Logan?" she asked softly. "Please?"

The man exhaled loudly and ran his other hand through his hair. "Damn, fine! You an' th' Cajun are off th' hook, but if he ever hurts ya, I'm gonna-"

"Ah get it, Logan," she chuckled. "An' don't worry, if he does,there won't be anythin' left for you after Ah'm done with him."

"Good girl," he answered with a grin. "Thanks, Chuck. We woulda bin avoidin' each other for another month or so if you hadn't dragged us in here."

"No thanks necessary," Charles smiled. "It's good to see you getting along again."

_This is it, he told himself as he gazed at his reflection in the mirror. This was the culmination of several long and arduous years of painful negotiations and an equal if not longer amount of time spent on "persuading" Remy to comply for the two Guilds' best interests._

_Inhaling and exhaling slowly, he glanced at the ornate Baroque-esque clock on the mantle and couldn't help but feel that he was making a terrible mistake as his remaining seconds of freedom ticked away. He fiddled with his cuff for the umpteenth time and checked his teeth for any lingering bits of cigarette stains which he had spent the better part of the last week scrubbing off after a heckling and an ear-pulling from Tante Mattie._

_Remy almost jumped when the door opened and his father, Jean Luc LeBeau, the Patriarch of the New Orleans Thieves' Guild, entered, wearing a bright and warm smile. To the average person, this would've seemed pretty normal, but Remy had been around his adopted parent long enough to know otherwise._

"_Ah be mos' proud of y', son," Jean Luc said, placing his hands on his son's shoulders. "Y've done wha' Ah coul' only ev'r have dreamed of. Wit' dis marriage, de whole ridiculousness o' de feud 'tween de deux guilds will be gone, and a new age of unification will begin. Ain't dat great?"_

"_Oui, père." Remy affected his own fake smile, unable to truly believe in his father's words. Sure, the marriage might cause hostilities to cease at the current moment, but it wouldn't be long before old conflicts and hatreds rose again and led to a renewed and even more aggressive feud. "Ain't nothin' bett'r in de world."_

"_O' course." Jean Luc patted him on the back. "Oh yes, Ah remember, Lapin an' Henri are outside, dey be wantin' to talk wit' y' before y' finally tie de knot. Y' want me t' send dem in f'r y'?"_

"_Dat woul' be great, père," Remy answered, his fake smile still convincingly in place. With a final nod, his father exited and let the two waiting outside to come in. They smiled politely as their patriarch passed them and shut the heavy wooden door behind them quickly._

"_How y' holdin' up, frère?" Henri asked. Remy noted the distinct concern which was present in his voice, but not his father's, and let the faux-smile drop from his face._

"_Dis don't feel vrai, Henri," he admitted truthfully. "T' be damned honest, Ah don't even want t' do this – y' know how ol' Belladonna be clinically insane, don't y' – an' besahdes, Ah..." He sighed._

_Henri knew the look from personal experience – the look of a man in love – and he too had looked exactly like his little brother did the first time he laid eyes on Merci._

_Now, never let be said that Henri wasn't a loyal member of the Assassins' Guild, but he couldn't let his brother marry himself off into a depressing life punctuated by arguments and fights with an assassin-trained lunatic. _That _was not a combination you wanted._

"_Right, Remy, y'd bett'r be wantin' dis f'r real, oth'rwise Ah''ll kick y'r ass, and den fin' y' an' get Merci t' kick it t' hell an' back," Henri grumbled, gesturing to Lapin. The other man reached into his jacket and withdrew a passport and a set of car keys. "Take m' car, it's parked out back, an' get to de usual place, dere'll be somebody waitin' t' get y' outta Nawlins. Now get y'rself outta here before dey come in lookin' f'r y', Remy."_

"_What are y' doin'-" Remy was cut off when he was drawn into a hug with his brother, and understood what he was doing for him. He smiled gratefully and hugged back. "Merci, frère. Ah owe y' ev'rytin'."_

"_Damn straight ya do," Henri managed to chuckle before getting his serious face back up. Hell, he was starting to tear up. "Go on, get outta here."_

_Remy nodded. He shook hands with Lapin, who grinned sadly as they did so._

"_Bon chance, y' thick skulled dimwit."_

"_Toi aussi, mon ami. Toi aussi." With one final adieu, Remy slipped out through the window and left the easy life behind without so much as a glance behind._

With a sigh, Remy drew himself out of the pleasant daydream and placed a cigarette between his lips. As he lit it and breathed in, he wondered whether he would ever be able to see his brother and his friends again. He had promised to call, to check in secretly once in a while, but situations had made him do otherwise and now he had not spoken to anyone in his family for several months. Tante Mattie must be flaming angry.

Not that he knew exactly how he would present himself again in Nawlins without having things thrown at him that were either very sharp or about to explode.

Sucking in a deep puff of smoke from his cigarette, he observed his surroundings with a keen eye, keeping a look out for anybody who might be watching him. It wouldn't be beyond for Belladonna to send out the entirety of the Rippers' Guild after him.

He tried taking another puff to calm his nerves but when it didn't help, he sighed and stubbed it out on the ashtray on the table in front of him. Finishing off a rather limp excuse for a croissant, he placed a five dollar note on the table and left.

As he walked down the street, he could swear that there were two people tailing him rather blatantly. Hastening his pace, he went down an alleyway to his right and unsurprisingly, the two Mr. Obvious-es followed him a minute later.

Remy didn't give them time to even blink. Flinging three charged cards at the first man's feet, he swung his bo staff, smacking the man hard on the temple and sending him crashing into the wall. As the man tried to regain his footing, Remy brought the heel of his boot down hard on his head and knocked him out cold.

The second had shaken off the initial surprise and ferocity of the Cajun's attack and pulled a gun out, but with a well placed kick from his opponent, it span out of his hand and clattered on the ground. Snarling, he threw himself at Remy, ramming a shoulder into his stomach and driving him against the wall.

Remy grunted in pain as the man tightened his grip around his midsection and began to repeatedly ram him against the wall. His right hand shot into his pocket and drew out an ace of spades, which he charged and shoved down the man's shirt. After driving his elbows into his back and forcing him to release his hold, Remy brought his knee up into his jaw with a nasty crack and kicked him away. The man's eyes widened just before the card in his shirt exploded and sent him into a dumpster.

Straightening out his attire, Remy exited the alley as quickly and as inconspicuously as possible and made a beeline for a safe house he had acquired and outfitted a while back. It was an apartment in a building located in the older and shadier areas of New York, and it suited his needs perfectly. Large and spacious, and hidden away from the prying eyes of nosy neighbours.

He slammed the thick wooden door behind him and slapped his thumb on the scanner by the door frame. It beeped, scanning and identifying his fingerprint, and activated the set of ten locks securing the door.

Slipping off his trench coat, he went over to the fridge, got out a beer and was about to drink it when his phone rang. Fumbling in his pocket, he got it out and hit the answer button.

"_Oui_?"

"This LeBeau?" a coarse, gravelly voice asked. It sounded as if somebody was whetting a knife, judging from the sounds in the background.

"An' who might y' be, m'sieu?"

"Wolverine." Remy gave his apartment a quick scan, just in case the not-so-friendly clawed mutant had breached the security perimeter.

"How marvelous t' finally talk wit' y' properly, M'sieu Logan," he drawled out as he reached for his bo staff. "Remy's been dyin' t' get t' know de infamous Wolverine."

"Cut the crap, Gambit, I ain't callin' ta arrange a play-date," Logan growled. "Now listen up, Gumbo, cos I ain't gonna repeat mahself. Rogue an' I had a little chat about her relationship wit' ya, an' I agreed ta let ya two keep seein' each other **but**," he emphasized it heavily, "ya better treat her right. She deserves somebody good after all th' crap she's been through."

"I understand, Logan," Remy answered, recognizing the gruff sincerity in his voice. "Remy ain't ev'r gonna do anyt'in' t' hurt Rogue. Jus' want t' make her happy."

"Good. One more thing, Cajun. Not _one_ word 'bout this ta Rogue. Understand?"

"Why, y' don't want her t' know y've been messin' 'round behind her back?"

"No, dumbass, 'cos I'm usin' her phone." _Click._


End file.
